


Between Earth and Sea

by genkisakka



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: Alternate Universe, First Kiss, First Love, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-02
Updated: 2012-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-28 17:24:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/310268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genkisakka/pseuds/genkisakka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for keire_ke as part of the August 2011 7thnight_smut exchange on Dreamwidth. Deputy Chief Magister Johannes von Grier has been summoned to China by his mentor for some mysterious purpose. Orphaned teen Goku and his adoptive siblings are on the run from the Magistrate. Sparks fly when these strangers meet on the train to the port city of Shanghai.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Is that it? Is that the sea?”

Ned glanced at Goku, who was practically bouncing out of his seat, straining toward the window, his wide eyes drinking in every last bit of scenery. They had left behind the dusty, rocky landscape of their childhood home, and were now crossing into a wide-open grassland that stretched on for miles. Ned watched the tall, slender, pale-green stalks bend and sway in the train’s wake: rather like waves, he thought. But before he could voice his observation, Pru flashed a teasing grin.

“No, dummy -- that’s just a bunch of grass,” she said. “Do you see any water there?”

Goku scowled at Pru. “Well, no! But I can smell it.”

Pru laughed. “Water doesn’t have a smell!”

“Does so!”

“Yeah? What’s it smell like, then?”

Goku thought for a moment, and Ned had to hide a smile. Goku looked about five years old when he made that scrunched-up face that indicated he was carefully considering something.

“Bright!” he finally said.

Pru scowled and poked Goku in the ribs. “Bright is not a smell!”

“Well, I can’t think of what else to call it! It’s not my fault your sense of smell is lousy!”

“Hey, I’m a civilized person! I don’t go around sniffing the air like some kind of wild animal, unlike some people I could mention…”

Ned knew his twin and Goku could go on squabbling like that for hours, so he put his hand on Pru’s shoulder and interrupted --

“Goku makes a good point -- it’s like an ocean of pasture out there.” Ned pointed to the window. “See all the sheep?”

Goku leaned over until his face was practically pressed against the glass. “Yeah, I see ‘em, Ned! I think I see some rams too.” His golden eyes took on a familiar gleam. “Man, I am starving,” he moaned, slumping down in his seat as if he’d suddenly lost all strength. “Let’s eat lunch! Pru, you packed mutton sandwiches, right?”

Pru smacked Goku’s hand away from her rucksack. “Not yet! We should at least wait another couple of hours ‘til we get to Zhengzhou.”

“So mean!” Goku’s forlorn pout could have melted the coldest of hearts, but Pru was far too experienced in staving off Goku’s seemingly endless appetite. Ned decided that a distraction was called for. He reached over and tugged on Goku’s long brown braid.

“Come on… let’s see if there are some snacks for sale in another car,” Ned said.

Pru rolled her eyes. “You shouldn’t encourage him,” she told Ned.

“Do you really want to listen to his stomach growling all the way to Zhengzhou?” Ned asked.

Pru sighed. “Good point. Okay, be careful and don’t spend too much.” She flipped her dark braids over her shoulders and pulled her plaid newsboy cap down low over her eyes. “Wake me when you get back.”

“We’ll bring you back something, right Ned?” Goku grabbed Ned’s hand and pulled him into the aisle.

Ned had little hope of finding any food-vendors -- at this point the steam-express was sparsely populated, though Ned imagined it would become more crowded once they’d passed Zhengzhou and began hitting the larger Eastern towns on their way to Shanghai. But he figured the search would at least keep Goku occupied for awhile. Ned’s adoptive brother was a bundle of barely contained energy at the best of times, and the stress and excitement of their hasty flight from Shanxi had Goku practically vibrating out of his skin.

To Ned’s surprise, Goku seemed to forget the promise of food the moment they stepped outside to the viewing platform between cars. He leaned over the metal railing, enchanted by the open air and the scenery rushing by. “This is so great!” His shout was barely audible over the rush of wind and screech of metal. “Isn’t this the best thing ever, Ned?” He took a deep breath and laughed with delight. “The air is so much cleaner than back home!”

Ned returned Goku’s smile. It was easy to forget their current, not inconsiderable troubles in the face of Goku’s relentless optimism and enthusiastic zeal for the smallest of pleasures. Even Pru was usually charmed in spite of herself by Goku’s ability to enjoy the moment no matter how dire their overall circumstances.

A particularly aggressive blast of wind made Ned shiver, and Goku was instantly by his side. “Y’r cold,” he yelled, warm brown hands clasping Ned’s and squeezing gently.

“I’m fine,” Ned replied, not bothering to shout, given Goku’s keen hearing. He tugged Goku toward the next car, and Goku followed with a nod.

They had passed through a second, nearly empty passenger car and were halfway through the third when they heard a few sharp whistle-blasts, followed by a squeal of brakes and the shudder of the rapidly slowing train. Ned glanced out the windows, and saw the same unpopulated pasture lands they’d been traversing for the past hour or so, unbroken by town, station, or even platform. This can’t be good, he thought, biting his lip and meeting Goku’s worried gaze.

“Let’s get back to Pru,” he said, pitching his whisper so only Ned could hear. Ned acknowledged with the barest of nods, and they turned to retrace their steps. But as they made their way to the car door, the train came to a shrieking, grinding halt, and Ned caught a glimpse of something in the window that made him stop short and pull Goku down into an unoccupied row.

“Look,” Ned whispered.

They hunched down in the seats and peered sidelong at the group of people standing next to the tracks, right next to the viewing platform they needed to cross to return to Pru. There looked to be a half-dozen, all armed with long-range shock-guns and wearing the full-length blue and silver coats of the Magistrate.

Goku hissed and employed some of the more colorful English he’d recently learned from Pru. “We can’t stay here,” he muttered. “They’ll know you on sight.”

Ned silently cursed his white-blond hair and gray-blue eyes, which stood out like a beacon among the almost-uniformly dark-haired, dark-eyed Chinese. It was too bad they’d only had enough shoe polish to dye Pru’s hair black, though she swore she’d find a way to filch some more during the train’s next city-stop.

“This way,” Ned murmured, sliding out of the seat and heading for the opposite end of the car in a sort of crouched shuffle. They slipped into the next car, which contained the private compartments reserved for first-class passengers, and froze at the sound of voices coming from ahead.

“More of them?” Ned felt the beginnings of panic; there was no way they could avoid being spotted now. But just as the door at the other end of the car opened, Goku grabbed the gold handle of the nearest compartment, pushed open the door, and pulled them both inside.

~ * ~ * ~

Jan leaned forward and eyed the plain wooden tray in front of him with distaste. The squat, clay teapot emitted an odor not unlike that of the endless grasslands outside his train window, and the two flat, seed-covered biscuits next to it looked scarcely more appetizing. He sighed and thought longingly of his meticulously ordered, elegantly furnished office in Brussels, with its comfortable sitting room where his secretary brought him afternoon tea in delicate bone-china cups accompanied by an assortment of savory sandwiches and freshly baked pastries.

He poured some of the strange-smelling brew into a small, rough clay cup without a handle, chanced a sip, and nearly spit it right back out again. First class indeed, he thought with a sneer, forcing himself to continue drinking the unpleasant beverage and to eat one of the dry, tasteless cakes. It wasn’t as if he would be enjoying home comforts anytime soon, thanks to his fool of a father.

Jan reached into his pocket and extracted a folded slip of paper, smoothing it out and reading the message it contained for what had to be the tenth time since boarding the train at Xi’an. He had been aboard an airship headed for Zhengzhou when the ship’s communications officer had delivered an eyes-only telegram from Meindert von Grier, Chief Magister of Sector 3 of the European Magistrate for the Enforcement of Magical Use Restrictions:

*MY DEAREST JOHANNES*stop*ZHENGZHOU NO LONGER SAFE*stop*IN TRANSIT TO SHANGHAI*stop*SWITCH TO STEAM-EXPRESS AT XI’AN*stop*BEWARE CHINESE MAGISTRATE*stop*MORE INSTRUCTIONS SOON*stop*YOUR LOVING FATHER, MEINDERT*

Jan briskly folded the telegram and returned it to his pocket, even though what he really wanted was to rip it up and light the pieces on fire. Jan loved Meindert as if he were his trueblood father, and he had the utmost respect for his mentor’s keen intellect and spellcasting prowess. But Meindert was also flighty, sloppy, and prone to taking impromptu trips whenever the mood struck while forgetting to notify his family and fellow magisters beforehand, a habit that never failed to leave the Brussels-based Sector 3 central office in an uproar.

However, this latest expedition had pushed Jan’s admittedly small store of patience to the brink. Meindert was supposed to meet Jan and several other Sector 3 colleagues in Dusseldorf for an inductees conference on distinguishing fact from fiction in the reporting of magical events. But Meindert never arrived, forcing Jan to give Meindert’s keynote presentation on techniques for identifying, confirming and reporting the reanimation of corpses and the creation of automatons -- one of the gravest transgressions any magic-user, licensed or no, could commit. He had felt completely out of his depth during the discussion afterward, given that his own area of expertise was the banishment of demons and other hostile spirits. Afterward he had overheard one of the attendees joke, “Never send an exorcist to do a necromancer’s job,” earning a hearty laugh from those within earshot. The remembered feeling of humiliation still set Jan’s teeth on edge.

He was able to vent some of his fury the very next day when, as he was packing to return to Brussels, he was paged to the hotel’s radio room to answer an urgent call from the Chief Magister. Jan had been tempted to ignore the page, but when the messenger told him the call had come over an emergency channel, he followed her briskly down the hall to the small chamber where such transmissions could be received in private.

“Ah, Johannes, thank the gods! I was worried you had already departed…”

“Of all the idiotic, irresponsible things you’ve ever done, this is the worst!” Jan hissed into the receiver. “Do you have any idea how mortifying it was for me, having been forced to flaunt my ignorance on the particulars of necromancy in front of these newborns?”

“Oh, Jan, I’m sure you did just fine,” was Meindert’s airy reply. “But, really, I called with some rather * _crackle_ * news --”

“And your unexplained absence made a mockery of our office as well! Why, I wouldn’t be surprised if Grand Maegi Alora herself initiated a formal review and removed you from your position…”

“Johannes, please do shut up.”

Even over the horrendous connection, Jan could hear the tension in Meindert’s sharp command. “I apologize, sir,” he said, feeling somewhat sheepish at Meindert’s rare display of temper. “Where are you?”

“I am in Beijing, on orders from * _crackhisspop_ *, and I fear I may have uncovered some rather unsavory * _crackle_ * here.” Meindert was speaking much more quickly than was his custom, which combined with the line-static was making it all but impossible for Jan to understand him.

“Can you repeat that last bit?” he asked. “There was some noise on the line --”

“I apologize, Jan, but I must go,” Meindert interrupted. “They’re looking for me, and I must keep moving. I need you to meet me in Zhengzhou as soon as possible.”

Jan was startled; Meindert had never requested his presence in the field before. “You want me to come to China?” he asked, just to be sure.

“Yes, and quickly,” Meindert replied. “And tell no one; a message has already been sent to Sector 3 on your behalf. You should be able to hire an airship in Berlin; take the steam-express from Dusseldorf, and --”

“Hiring an airship will cost a fortune!”

“I know, but * _cracksnapbuzz_ * approved, so charge it all to our office and don’t fret. I really must be off, Jan -- I will contact you when I reach Zhengzhou.”

“But Father, what about…” Jan’s query echoed hollowly in the dead receiver, and he was left to wonder and worry as he made his way to Berlin, then to China. The telegram and subsequent detour from Xi’an to had only added to his stream of questions, but one thing Jan had gleaned from the cryptic wire was that he should probably not draw too much attention to himself -- or at least, any more attention than a blond, blue-eyed man of northern European ancestry normally attracted in a place like China.

So his magister’s uniform was neatly folded in the valise stored under the seat in front of him, and Jan was dressed in gray wool trousers, a crisp white linen shirt accented with a sapphire-silk cravat, and a charcoal waist-coat. His shoulder-length hair was neatly combed back and tied at the base of his neck with a blue ribbon. Jan believed he looked every bit the part of a wealthy Dutch businessman on his way to Shanghai to discuss trade routes with his Chinese distribution partner.

He poured another cup of tea and was starting on the second biscuit when he felt the train shuddering to a stop. “What on earth?” he muttered, seeing nothing but grass stretching for miles in all directions. He hoped the train had not broken down. Steam-express trains were usually a reliable means of transport, but he had no idea if China’s rail operators adhered to the same rigorous inspection standards as their European counterparts.

He heard someone shouting what sounded like a series of commands in Mandarin. Jan’s Chinese was rather rudimentary, but he caught the words “magister” and “fugitives”. A cold fist clenched at his insides -- could someone have spotted Jan in Xi’an and reported his presence to the Chinese magistrate? He still was unsure why Meindert’s message had seemingly warned him against contacting their counterparts in China. Had Meindert somehow run afoul of one of their high-ranking magisters, and was he now attempting to flee the country?

Jan couldn’t believe that. For all his flaws, Meindert was an honorable and sophisticated man. Jan couldn’t imagine a situation in which his mentor would be clumsy or arrogant enough to deliberately offend foreign officials, especially in a country with which they had such a new and tenuous alliance. Even if he had somehow stepped on a few toes, Jan trusted that Meindert would do everything in his power to mend whatever hurts he had caused.

He was pondering what actions, if any, he should take when the door to his compartment flew open and two bodies hurtled into his small space. One of them knocked into the foldaway table, rattling the tea-things and further fraying Jan’s composure.

“ _Was zum Teufel?_ ” he yelled, the shock causing him to revert to his native German. He half-rose and grabbed the table to keep it from tipping over, while the taller of the two young men helped steady his companion. He pushed a lock of white-blond hair out of his grave, gray eyes and replied in slightly accented German --

“ _Entschuldigen sie bitte, mein herr. Ich werde sie nicht lange aufhalten._ ”

The shorter, dark-haired boy tugged on his companion’s sleeve. “What language is that, Ned?” he asked in English.

Jan stood up straight and glared at the two intruders. “He apologized for your unbelievably rude entrance, and said you will be leaving now,” he said, grateful they both appeared to speak English, a language in which he was far more conversant than Mandarin.

The blond boy frowned. “I think you misunderstood me,” he said slowly, as if speaking to a child or an imbecile. “I said, ‘excuse us, sir, we’ll only be a moment’…”

But the dark boy ignored his friend and beamed at Jan as if he were a long-lost friend. “Hey, wow, you speak English too! You must be really smart like Ned here.” He stopped short as Jan increased the intensity of his scowl. “You’re right, we’re being kinda rude,” he said with an embarrassed grin. “So we should introduce ourselves. He’s Ned, and I’m Goku. Pleased to meet ya!”

Jan stared at Goku’s outstretched hand, then at the absurdly hopeful grin on his round, boyish face. “I’ll thank you to keep your unsanitary hands to yourself, and go back to where you came from,” he snapped, folding his arms. “I have no coins to give to beggar-boys.”

Goku’s friendly expression vanished. “Hey, we’re no beggars!” he growled. “We paid to ride this train, same as you!”

“Forgive my misunderstanding,” Jan drawled, with a pointed glance at Goku’s disheveled attire. His muslin shirt was half-unbuttoned, exposing a much-washed, no-longer-quite-white undershirt speckled with grease stains. His suspenders hung loosely down his hips, and his black canvas trousers were ripped in one knee and almost worn through in the other. To top it off, the boy was barefoot, though Jan had to admit he didn’t know whether that was as sure a sign of poverty here as in Brussels.

Ned squeezed Goku’s shoulder, and the youth immediately fell into a silent sulk. “He doesn’t like shoes -- says they make him clumsy,” the blond boy explained to Jan. “And I know we don’t belong here, but I beg of you, good sir, please allow us to remain until the train is well on its way.” He reached into his pocket, extracting a wad of Chinese currency. “We can pay you for your trouble.”

Jan eyed the solemn young man. He was certainly tidier and more polite than his friend, though his clothes were of the same dubious quality, and the toes of his work-boots were smudged with what appeared to be coal dust. But there was something off about him. Jan couldn’t quite put it into words. Maybe it was his skin, so pale it was almost translucent, or the way his eyes had seemed to go blank before he addressed Jan in German. Whatever it was, it had tripped Jan’s internal warning system -- that sixth sense that had helped him finish the magister training program in a record three months and rise to his current status as the youngest deputy chief magister on the Continent.

Jan couldn’t afford distractions right now, but he had learned the hard way never to ignore his instincts. He waved dismissively at Ned.

“Put your money away and sit down,” Jan said gruffly.

Goku instantly brightened. “Thanks, mister!” he said, claiming the window seat directly opposite Jan with an energetic bounce. “Hey, you have curtains… fancy. Ned, should I check outside?”

Ned shushed him. “Someone’s coming,” he whispered, glancing fearfully at Jan. The three fell silent and listened to the approaching thump of boots in the outside hall, and the sharp rap of knuckles against the adjoining compartment door.

Jan scanned the compartment. His valise was blocking access to the area under the boys’ seats, and they would be seen from the doorway if they hid under the opposite row. There was no overhead storage, only the pull-down bunk, which would give them no protection at all from prying eyes. He slipped into the small space between seats and door and gestured to Ned.

“Both of you, in the corner there, as tight as you can,” he said softly. “Don’t move… don’t speak… don’t even breathe, understand?” He punctuated the last comment with a narrow-eyed glare at Goku, who nodded, his peculiar golden eyes fixed on Jan’s.

Jan sat back down, took a deep breath and exhaled a soft string of syllables. Even though he was not an active field agent, Jan had learned a few rudimentary masking spells in the event he was summoned as backup. This particular spell had the effect of distorting the perception of anyone seeking to penetrate its field, causing them to see -- or in this case, not to see -- whatever the spellcaster wished. However, the illusion was dependent on a complete lack of any noise or movement that would draw people’s attention to the very area the caster wished to conceal. He glanced at the corner, where he saw Ned pressed into the corner of the cabin, eyes closed and arms tightly wound around Goku, who stood soundless and motionless, his face buried in Ned’s shoulder. Jan found the contrast between this living statue and the loud, energetic urchin who’d burst uninvited into his cabin strangely disquieting.

The expected knock caused the door to rattle in its frame. Jan remained quiet, hoping the agents would take the silence to mean an empty car and move on. He saw the small golden knob turn and took another breath, pushing a bit more energy into the spell, before rising indignantly from his seat as a head poked into the cabin, framed at the neck by the silver-trimmed blue collar of an official magister’s uniform.

“I beg your pardon!” Jan said; all magisters, regardless of country, were required to learn English so as to better communicate across sectors.

“Oh, so sorry, sir -- I did not know this compartment was occupied,” the magister said, bowing slightly. He was a tall, thin Chinese man with sharp features and intelligent eyes. “We are looking for three young runaways -- two boys and one girl, about 16 or 17 years in age. You would not have by chance seen them on this train?”

“I have not left my cabin since boarding in Xi’an,” Jan said truthfully. He would prefer to avoid lying outright to the man if he could avoid it -- after all, he was a colleague and a fellow soldier in the fight against the abuse of magic.

The magister’s gaze turned piercing, but Jan held his ground, staring serenely back, letting the barest hint of irritation show in the tightening of his mouth. Finally, the official exhaled sharply through his nose.

“I see. Again, sorry for the disturbance, sir,” he said, bowing as he ducked out of the compartment and shut the door tightly behind him. Jan opened his mouth to tell the boys to wait for a few moments more, but they remained motionless in the corner until they heard the hiss of steam running through the pipes under the floorboards, and the swoosh of disengaged air brakes. As the train rumbled into motion, Goku and Ned let out simultaneous breaths, but continued to clutch one another. Jan could see that both boys were trembling.

“It’s okay, Goku,” Ned murmured repeatedly, rubbing one hand in little circles over Goku’s back.

“It was too close,” Goku said, his voice shaking. “Ned, they can’t take you… I won’t let them.”

“Shh, little brother… they won’t, I promise.”

Jan shifted uncomfortably in his seat, debating whether he should emit a discreet cough or some other gentle reminder of his presence, when Goku cried --

“Pru! They were looking for her, too.”

Ned shushed him again. “I’ll go first… wait a few minutes before you follow me,” he said, flipping his collar up and running his fingers nervously through his hair. “Wish I had borrowed Pru’s hat,” he said ruefully before bowing to Jan.

“Sir, I don’t know how to thank you for your help… you quite literally saved our lives.”

Jan already regretted what he was about to say, but the words left his lips just the same --

“You can thank me by bringing this Pru back here and sharing my compartment until we reach your destination.”

The smile Goku gave him was incandescent. “Seriously, mister? You don’t mind?” He threw his arms around Jan’s shoulders and hugged him hard. “You’re the best!”

Jan was not the sort of man who invited spontaneous hugs; in fact, he could count on one hand the number of times he’d been hugged since childhood and none of them had been particularly pleasant experiences. Jan fought his initial urge to shove Goku away and instead sat stiffly in his embrace, breathing in the not-unpleasant scent of laundry soap and sun-dried cloth mixed with sweat. Goku briefly pressed his smooth cheek to Jan’s before withdrawing, and Jan suppressed a shiver at the sensation. He cleared his throat in an effort to regain his equilibrium.

“Yes, well, clearly someone needs to keep you out of trouble until you reach… where is it you’re going?”

“Shanghai,” Ned said.

“That is my destination as well.”

Goku and Ned exchanged relieved grins. “Lucky for us,” Ned said, opening the door a crack and peering out into the hall. “Car’s empty,” he told Goku. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Wait.” Jan had pulled out his valise and was doing his best to rummage through his clothing without revealing his magister’s garb. He finally located his black watch cap and handed it to Ned. “It might look strange to be wearing this on the train, but it’s less noticeable than that blond hair of yours.”

Ned donned the cap, tugging it down until it touched his eyebrows. He hastily tucked stray ends of his hair beneath the black wool band. “Thank you,” he said with a meaningful pause.

“Jan,” the older man replied, taking Ned’s hand and giving it a brisk shake. It was cool and dry, and Jan felt a strange, inorganic hum emanating from within the boy’s palm.

Definitely not normal, Jan thought grimly as the boy gave a silent wave and slipped out the door.


	2. Chapter 2

Goku fidgeted in his seat and dared another glance at their host. He was even taller than Dad had been, with hair that shone like sunlight and gold, and dark blue eyes that seemed to see straight through to his soul. Not even his constant frown could hide how beautiful he was, Goku thought, feeling a strange fluttering at the back of his throat. He swallowed and attempted to start another conversation --

“So, Jan… that’s a Chinese name, right? We had a baker back home named Yan… he made the best meat buns…”

Jan glared at Goku. “Do I look Chinese to you, moron?” he snapped.

Goku’s smile faltered, but he forged ahead. “Well no… but Ned ‘n Pru don’t look Chinese either, ‘n they are,” he said. “Or at least, they’re part-Chinese… their dad’s half-Chinese, half-British, and their mum’s full Chinese… but Mum gave ‘em British names cause they look so much like Dad and she likes the sound of English, she says…”

Jan rolled his eyes. “Good lord, do you ever take a breath?”

Goku scowled. “Now you sound like my sister,” he said. “I’m just tryin’ to be friendly, since you were nice enough to let us sit with you.”

“A decision I’m already regretting.” Despite the sarcastic reply, Goku caught a slight twitch at the corner of Jan’s mouth, the same twitch that Pru would show when she was trying not to smile. It was so comfortably familiar that Goku couldn’t stay annoyed with Jan, not that he ever stayed mad for long at anyone he considered a friend.

Jan was staring hard at Goku again, and Goku felt himself blushing a bit. “You don’t look at all like your brother,” Jan said.

 _Shit, did I say too much?_ Goku frantically replayed their conversation in his mind for any mention of his relationship to Ned. He didn’t think he’d said anything, but even if he hadn’t, Jan was likely smart enough to figure it out. And Goku wasn’t sure that it would be so bad to tell Jan the truth of everything; he had known the instant he’d laid eyes on Jan that he was someone good, someone who could be trusted.

Goku knew he wasn’t smart like Ned, or clever like Pru. But he was strong and fast and could smell, hear, and see better than anyone else in all of Shanxi. More importantly, Goku could always tell right away if a person was good or bad. For example, he’d known from the day he’d met that rotten uncle Li Tou Teng that he was evil, with his slimy smile and greedy eyes that made Goku feel as if Li wanted to devour him whole or something. And he’d known from the moment Son Wen Kang had pulled him out of that pit deep in the mines that he was a noble, kind, strong man.

Not strong enough, turns out, Goku thought with a pang of sorrow.

“Well? Have you suddenly lost what little wits you possess?” Jan tapped his foot impatiently.

“Um, what?” Goku scratched the back of his neck nervously.

“I asked you if you were adopted,” Jan repeated.

Goku was saved from having to answer by the return of Ned, who opened the door and ushered his twin sister inside the cabin first. Goku immediately jumped up to give her a hug. “Pru! I just knew you were okay,” he said as she patted his back awkwardly. He released her and asked --

“But how did you get around the longcoats?”

Pru grinned. “Hid in the toilet,” she said. “When those dumb-ox longcoats came pounding on the door, I just shouted at ‘em in my best old-lady voice.” She let loose a rapid-fire string of Mandarin in a high-pitched, quavering tone that made her brothers cackle with glee.

Goku noticed that even Jan had smiled slightly at Pru’s demonstration. The expression had transformed his face from pretty to stunning, and set off those flutters in Goku’s throat again, only this time they worked their way down through his chest and belly. His face felt hot, and he prayed he wasn’t blushing again.

“That was quick thinking,” Jan said. Pru turned to face him, assuming a businesslike expression.

“I’m Pru,” she said, with a curt nod rather than the customary bow of greeting. “You must be our surprise benefactor.”

The emphasis on the word “surprise” made Jan quirk one elegant brow. “That’s rather a long title,” he said. “Feel free to call me Jan instead.”

Pru was silent for a long, considering moment. “Listen mister, don’t get me wrong. I’m grateful for you helping my brothers out.” Her eyes narrowed, and there was a bite in her tone that made Goku flinch reflexively. “But I got to wonder why you’re so willing to help a bunch of strange kids being chased by the longcoats. Seems like the kind of trouble a rich foreigner would go out of his way to avoid.”

Goku stepped protectively in front of Jan and glowered at his sister. “Shit, Pru, why you got to be so suspicious of everybody?” He looked back over his shoulder at Jan, who remained straightfaced. “Jan could’a turned us in to the longcoats, but he didn’t, and that’s good enough for me. Besides, I know he’s good -- I can _feel_ it.”

Pru pursed her lips. “I know you think you can just feel stuff like that,” she told Goku, not unkindly. “But we’re not at home anymore, and we have to be careful who we trust.”

Jan glanced over at Ned. “Do you agree with your sister?” he asked the youth.

“I think Goku’s right -- you do seem to be a good person,” Ned said. “But I also agree with Pru; you have your own reasons for helping us, don’t you, Magister?”

Goku whirled to face Jan, who made every effort to maintain his blank expression. But Goku spotted the slight widening of his eyes and dilation of his pupils. He felt sick to his stomach, as if Jan had physically kicked him there.

“No way… you’re one of _them_?” Goku shoved Pru and Ned toward the door without taking his eyes off Jan. “You longcoat bastard,” he snarled. “You and that fucker Li and his scummy friends will _never_ get Ned… I’ll die before I let you touch him.”

Jan threw up his hands in exasperation. “For fuck’s sake, boy, no one is taking anyone anywhere,” he said. “Now sit down, all of you, and let’s discuss this like intelligent beings.”

Ned clasped both of Goku’s shoulders, and Goku instantly felt calmer and more centered. “He’s right,” Ned said. “We’re stuck together on this train at least until Zhengzhou. We may as well hear each other’s stories.”

Pru nodded. “And if we don’t like what we hear, we can always let you throw the sneaky longcoat off the train,” she said cheerfully, clapping Goku on the back.

~ * ~ * ~

In an effort to thaw the icy atmosphere following Ned’s unmasking of Jan as a member of the Magistrate, Jan suggested they break for an early lunch before their mutual debriefing. He had made note of Goku’s repeated, longing glances at the remaining half of biscuit on his tea-tray, and deduced an offering of food would be a good start toward regaining the youth’s trust, which Jan was extremely irritated to realize actually mattered to him. He told himself it was simply because he abhorred deception in all forms, and that he felt he needed to make amends for having indulged in behavior that could be construed by some to be dishonest -- even if he had not actually _lied_ to the brat or his siblings.

Pru produced some rather squashed-looking sandwiches from her battered rucksack, and Goku’s eyes lit up like amber stars. “Been looking forward to this all morning,” he said, grabbing one and stuffing roughly half of it into his mouth.

Pru smacked the top of his head. “Goku, how many times have I told you to slow down and actually _chew_ your food?” she snapped.

“But ‘m so hungry!” How Goku managed to form words around the mass of bread and mutton in his mouth was a mystery to Jan. He averted his eyes and pulled the slender cord hanging just above his head. Moments later, a red-coated attendant opened the door. Her eyes widened at the sight of the full compartment.

“Mister von Grier, sir. I did not know you were… with guests,” she said in halting English.

“They are my brother’s children,” Jan said, presenting several yuan notes of staggeringly high denominations. “We would like some lunch, if you please, and then some privacy.”

The attendant accepted the money and pocketed it without missing a beat. “Of course,” she said, bowing and backing away from the door before closing it.

Ned looked impressed. “Wow, you’re an even better liar than Pru.”

“Hey! No one’s as good a liar as me,” Pru bragged. “I could lie to the Emperor’s face and not blink an eye.”

Goku scowled around his mouthful of sandwich. “That’s nothin’ to be proud of,” he muttered after swallowing, with a meaningful glance at Jan. He felt his cheeks actually color in response to Goku’s obvious disapproval, a reaction that was so patently absurd that it made him lose his temper.

“Enough!” he growled, smacking the arm of his chair so hard his palm stung. “I am no liar, sir. I was simply waiting until the right moment to reveal my position with the Magistrate, given your understandable mistrust of the organization.”

The three teens had frozen at the impact of his hand against the polished armrest. Pru finally broke the silence.

“Wait -- did you just call Goku ‘sir’?”

Goku and Ned both erupted into peals of laughter. “He did!” Ned guffawed, his pale face flushed with merriment. “Our Goku, the barefoot gentleman!”

“Oh sure,” Goku chortled. “Next stop, Buckingham Palace, right?”

Pru was laughing so hard she was hiccupping. “Stop… can’t breathe…” she gasped.

Of the long list of things Jan hated, being mocked or made the fool was at the top. And yet, he found his righteous indignation no match for the sight of Goku sprawled in his seat, his braid flung over one shoulder, his smooth skin gleaming bronze in the light from the window and his eyes shining with merriment. Goku caught Jan’s appreciative gaze, and flashed a grin that said as plainly as words that all was forgiven.

The arrival of lunch kept them all occupied for awhile. Jan watched in morbid fascination as Goku consumed roughly his own weight in dumplings and noodles, barely fazed by the periodic smack-punctuated scoldings administered by Pru. Ned ate sparingly, seemingly content to sip broth and rein in his sister when her chastising grew too animated. After the plates were empty and Jan had poured them each a cup of tea, Ned asked --

“So you are a magister from Europe, am I correct? How did you come to be here in China, if not to apprehend my siblings and me?”

“I was summoned here by my Chief,” Jan said. “He is on a classified assignment here, and requested my assistance.” He held up a hand as Pru began to interrupt. “And before you ask… no, I have no idea what the assignment entails. The line began breaking up as soon as he tried to give me the details, and his subsequent communications have been frustratingly cryptic. I know only that we were supposed to meet in Zhengzhou, but that he now wants me to continue on to Shanghai, where he will deliver further instructions.”

Ned frowned. “I find it hard to believe your superior’s arrival in China, mere weeks after a catastrophic, unexplained explosion in Shanxi’s largest coal mine, is mere coincidence,” he said. “Didn’t your office receive news of the accident?”

“I read a brief mention of it on our newswire, but as it appeared to be attributable to natural phenomenon, it didn’t strike me as particularly noteworthy from a Magistrate standpoint.”

Goku took a gulp of tea and said darkly --

“It was pretty noteworthy for us, believe me.”

Pru took his hand and squeezed it. “Wait, let the longcoat finish his story first. So you came here expecting to meet your boss in Zhengzhou, but he told you to go on to Shanghai instead? Why?”

Jan considered how he should answer the question. He didn’t want to feed into the teens’ fears about the so-called longcoats, but his instincts were all but screaming that there indeed was some sort of connection between these three youths and his mentor’s mysterious mission in China.

“He sent me a telegram saying Zhengzhou was no longer safe, and that I should beware of the Chinese Magistrate,” he finally admitted. “That is why I decided to help you, and why I’m beginning to agree with Ned that there is more than coincidence at work here.” He drained his teacup and added --

“And now it’s your turn. Tell me about the accident in Shanxi, and why you three are on this train to Shanghai and hiding from the Magistrate.” He looked over at Ned. “Let’s start with how you got those mechanical limbs,” he said gently, “and why there are remnants of magic clinging to them.”

Ned let out a huff of soft laughter. “You really are something,” he said admiringly.

“It’s not Ned’s fault!” Goku said, reaching over to grab Ned’s hand. “He was trapped in the mine after the explosion and the cave-in… I found him pinned under these huge rocks. They'd crushed his arm and both his legs.” His eyes filled with tears. “I thought… I was sure he wasn’t goin’ta make it,” he said, blinking them back as Ned patted his arm comfortingly. “Somehow I got him out of there… took him back to town… but the elders made me take him to that bastard Li.”

Pru picked up the story’s thread. “Li Tou Teng is our uncle,” she explained. “He’s the town’s doctor and an electrical engineer besides; he helped our father design the fail-safes for the mine in the event of a cave-in or explosion.”

“Which didn’t work,” Ned added bitterly. “And Dad didn’t find out until it was too late. I can still hear him calling for help…”

Pru took Ned’s free hand in one of hers, while Goku grabbed her other. Jan felt his heart clench at the image -- three siblings united in a circle of grief and comfort.

“But what we didn’t know was that Uncle Li’s also a sorcerer,” Pru continued. “When Goku came stumbling out of the mine with Ned, the elders sent someone to fetch our mother, and they took Ned to Li. Goku fought them… but old man Chen told Goku that Ned would die without a doctor’s care.”

“Some doctor,” Goku muttered. Ned squeezed Goku’s hand.

“I don’t remember much after Goku rescued me,” Ned said. “But I do remember the pain, like a thousand fires singeing every nerve… and Mum crying at my bedside, begging her brother Li to do everything in his power to save me. ‘I lost a husband… I cannot lose my son as well,’ she told him.” Now it was Ned who had to pause to blink back tears before continuing --

“He said he had been working on something experimental, that he wasn’t sure it would work but that I was the perfect test case, and that without it I would definitely not survive the night. Of course Mum agreed to let him try it… how could she not? He gave me a shot of something and I don’t remember anything more until I woke up about a week later… completely whole.” He flexed his arm and swung his legs back and forth. “Mum was so happy,” he added wistfully, “until the day the magisters arrived.”

“I remember,” Goku said. “She came back from visiting you at Li’s, all happy and talkative like usual, but I could tell something was wrong. She was like a clock that'd been wound too much, all tight and strained and out of sync. She kept saying you were well enough to come home, and that she was takin’ us on a trip, just the four of us… someplace where we could relax and forget the terrible things that had happened. But then there was a knock on the door… and she told me to leave out the back and run over to Li’s and fetch you. I was more ‘n happy to… I hated you bein’ there.” He bit his lip. “But I keep wonderin’, if I had stayed… if I had tried to stop them…”

“Then you’d have been arrested, and they would’ve gotten Ned,” Pru said. “There was nothing you could’ve done for her, Goku -- that’s why she sent you after Ned, and why she told the longcoats to wait a moment while she got some paperwork, then came upstairs and gave me every bit of money she had, told me to pack a bag and get you two out of town as fast as possible. ‘Take a train to Shanghai,’ Mum said, ‘find Kang’s sister, Yi Lin Smith, wife of Robert Smith the shipbuilder. She should be able to help you find transport across the sea to America, where there is no Magistrate, and no one to tell my son he is an abomination that must be destroyed.’”

Pru bowed her head. “She told me to keep running, not to turn around no matter what,” she said, her lip quivering. “So even when I heard her screaming… I didn’t go back.”

Pru shook with silent sobs. Ned knelt on the floor and took her into his arms, soothing her the way he had Goku after their close call with the magister. Goku was sniffling, and Jan’s own eyes felt suspiciously moist. He awkwardly rested a hand atop Goku’s head in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. His hair felt surprisingly silky, though it could use a combing -- the braid was starting to unravel a bit at its base.

Goku looked up, his normally cheerful face a tear-streaked mask of sorrow. “When I got to Li’s, I heard one of the longcoats saying he was gonna take Ned… use him as a, what d’you call it, a prototype for an army of super-soldiers,” he said hoarsely. “Li was shoutin’ at the longcoat, saying he’d promised Li a place in the Magistrate and millions of yuan besides, but the longcoat just laughed, said he didn’t need Li, that he was just an amateur who’d gotten lucky. ‘I’m the true master of mechanomancy,’ he said. And then there was this crackling sound, and this horrible choking noise. And then the longcoat told his buddies to go find Ned… but Ned knew this secret way out through the basement, so we used it and found Pru in the alley next door. And then we all ran together.”

They sat in silence after Goku finished. Goku dabbed his eyes with his sleeve. Ned pulled out a slightly tattered handkerchief and started wiping Pru’s face, but she knocked his hand aside and grabbed the piece of cloth. “I’m not that far gone,” she grumbled, swiping the fabric over her eyes and nose. Ned grinned, clearly relieved by his sister’s return to her usual blunt self.

Jan patted Goku’s head before withdrawing. “I am truly sorry for all you have lost,” he said. “But I do have a few questions, after we’ve all had a chance to rest for a bit.” He reached behind his seat and extracted two wool blankets, handing one to Pru, who accepted it with a nod of thanks and settled into the seat opposite Jan. Ned refused the other, saying Goku should take it, since he could share with Pru. The twins huddled together beneath the blanket and were asleep within minutes, and Jan found himself seated next to Goku, who was twisting the blanket in his hands and biting his lip again.

“Do y’ want the blanket?” he asked Jan. “I probably don’t need it…”

“I’m quite comfortable, thank you,” Jan replied. In fact, he was feeling a bit overly warm, and was considering removing his waistcoat. He knew it wasn’t proper, but he doubted his new traveling companions would critique his lapse of manners. He imagined Goku, suspenders dangling and feet bare, expounding on the virtues of Victorian dress, and the preposterous notion nearly made him laugh aloud.

Goku turned to face Jan and resting his cheek against the velvet-covered seat. His expression could be described as dreamy, if Jan was the sort of person who used such soppy language. “What’re you thinkin’ about? You almost looked like you were smiling for a second.”

Jan felt like a boy who’d been caught stealing sweets from the cupboard. “I’m sure you’re mistaken,” he said, folding his arms over his chest and leaning back in his seat. “Now hush and let me nap.”

~ * ~ * ~

Pru had never seen the sea, had never even been within 100 miles of a shoreline. But her dad had spent his early childhood in Cornwall, and described his birthplace often to his own children.

In her dream, Pru stood on a wide, white beach bordered by rocky spires, watching the waves writhe and surge and crash, sending spray shooting through the air. The briny air stung her nose, and the wind seized her braids and whipped them against her shoulders before blowing them straight back behind her. She looked around frantically for her brothers, her parents, but she was alone on the wild seashore, all alone… there was no one left, and soon the tide would rise, and she would be swallowed --

Pru woke with a start. The train was gently rocking, and Ned was still sleeping, his forehead pressed against her shoulder, his mouth slightly open. What a relief, to know Ned could still sleep after all he’d been through. She hoped he wasn’t dreaming.

She half-closed her eyes and turned her head slightly to check on her adoptive brother. Goku, of course, was wide awake -- he never slept for long stretches -- and he was gazing at his dozing seat-mate with a mixture of overt adoration and unabashed desire. Pru closed her eyes, her throat tightening against the throb of loss in her chest. It wasn’t that she had intentions toward Goku, exactly -- they had grown up together, and aside from a few childish kissing games and an awkward, short-lived crush when her breasts sprouted and Goku hit his first growth spurt, Pru knew he would always be nothing more than a sibling to her. But she had never seen Goku look at anyone the way he was looking at that pretty, prickly longcoat -- not even Ned, and Goku’s love for Ned bordered on worship.

It was clear to Pru that her sweet, stupid, sensitive little brother was in the throes of full-blown romantic infatuation. And given that Jan was way older than Goku, not to mention a member of the very organization that was seeking to eliminate Ned for no good reason, it was sure to end badly.

The slide of fabric against upholstery caught her attention, and she peeked through her lashes, swallowing back an outraged yelp at the sight of Goku leaning toward Jan and brushing a lock of golden hair from the older man’s face. _He isn’t… he wouldn’t… oh shit, he really is…!_

Goku tentatively brushed his lips against Jan’s, then drew back quickly, watching for any sign of wakefulness. Jan sighed, his full mouth parting slightly, and Goku emitted a choked noise of such longing that Pru’s heart skipped a few beats. He kissed Jan again, and this time the older man stirred, his eyes fluttering and his hands reflexively closing on Goku’s upper arms. A few seconds later, Jan was pushing Goku away, his blue eyes gone violet-dark with fury. His fierce whisper cut like a whiplash.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, brat?”

Goku blinked at him innocently, and Pru had to close her eyes for a moment to keep from snickering. She and Ned had a saying -- the more angelic Goku’s expression, the more devilish his actions. “What do you think I was doing?” he replied.

“You _kissed_ me!”

Goku regarded Jan silently, and the longcoat’s mouth tightened into one long line of frustration. Pru almost felt sorry for him.

“ _Twice!_ While I was sleeping! That’s molestation!” Jan gave Goku a little shake to punctuate each sentence.

Goku tilted his head to one side. “You couldn’ta been sleeping all that much, if you knew I was kissin’ you,” he said.

Pru clenched her jaw and fought not to laugh. She noted that Jan hadn’t released his hold on Goku’s arms, and that he was holding him awfully close for someone who was claiming to have been the recipient of unwanted advances.

“You… you…!” Jan’s blush had deepened to a becoming rose color, and he was squeezing Goku’s arms awfully hard. Goku reached up and covered Jan’s hands with his.

“You can let me go now,” Goku said. “If you want to, that is.”

Pru held her breath as the two stared each other down. Jan’s breathing was labored, and he had the look of a man about to willingly throw himself off a cliff. Goku, by contrast, had never looked more sure of himself.

Jan swore under his breath and pulled Goku into a clumsy, open-mouthed kiss.

Pru closed her eyes and smiled. Even if the liaison was ultimately doomed, Goku was entitled to a few kisses from his first-ever crush after the lifetime of trauma he’d endured. She’d be sure to time her “waking” before anything too scandalous occurred.


	3. Chapter 3

Jan woke to the sound of a gentle rapping. He gently nudged Goku’s head off his shoulder and reached over to open the door. Their attendant, Bao Yu, bowed and spoke softly --

“I am sorry to disturb your rest, sir, but you asked me to notify you when we were approaching Shanghai.”

“Yes, thank you,” Jan said. “Could you bring us breakfast, please?”

The young lady glanced over at Goku’s peacefully sleeping form. “Shall I include an extra serving or two?” she asked with a smile.

Jan sighed. “I suppose,” he said, “though we really shouldn’t encourage him.”

Bao Yu stifled a giggle. “Ah, but he is still growing, yes?”

“If we keep feeding him like this, he will begin growing in the wrong direction,” was Jan’s wry response.

Goku cracked open one eye. “Hey, will not,” he protested sleepily, eliciting another muffled giggle from the now-blushing attendant. Jan hadn’t missed the increasingly admiring glances the girl had given Goku as their journey progressed.

“That will be all, miss,” he said sternly, causing the girl to start and blush even harder.

“Forgive me, sir… I will bring right away,” she said in a rush, shutting the door after several nervous bobs of her head.

Goku stretched and yawned so widely Jan could see his back molars. “Did you have to scare Bao Yu away?” he said once he’d finished. “Now she might forget my extra helpin’s.”

No danger of that, Jan thought with a scowl, tapping out his irritation on his armrest. He refused to admit how close he’d come to slamming the door in that silly girl’s face.

Goku eyed his drumming fingers with a sly, heavy-lidded smile. Jan immediately ceased fidgeting and hissed --

“Stop looking at me like that.”

Goku didn’t even flinch. “Like what?”

“You _know_ what.” Jan cringed inwardly; his colleagues would laugh themselves sick if they could hear him now, reduced to the rhetorical skills of a thick-witted 10-year-old.

“I have no idea what you mean,” Goku practically purred, inching his body closer to Jan’s. “Maybe you could show me?”

Jan willed the twins to wake up and save him from this teenaged hormonal-driven menace. Of course, they didn’t so much as stir. After traveling with them for two days, Jan had become certain they could sleep through several explosions and a train derailment.

“Absolutely not,” he growled, trying in vain to regain some measure of the control he’d had over Goku before they had… but no, that was exactly the wrong direction for his thoughts to travel.

Goku ran a finger along Jan’s seat, the tip barely brushing his thigh. “Are you sure?” he murmured, continuing his inexorable advance.

Jan slapped his hand away, steeling his heart against Goku’s pained yelp and wounded expression. “As I have repeatedly told you, that will _not_ happen again,” he said, standing and brushing himself off. “It was wrong… inappropriate… indecent…”

Goku rubbed his offended knuckles. “Felt pretty decent to me,” he sulked. “But then, it was my first real kiss. Guess I didn’t do it right, huh?”

Jan felt his color rise again. It had actually been his first even remotely romantic kiss as well, but he would take that secret to his grave. “That isn’t the point,” he said. “You are 16 years old…”

“…we think,” Goku pointed out. “I told you, I don’t remember anything from before Dad found me in the mine…”

Jan continued as if Goku had not interrupted him. “And I am 24 years and 4 months old… 8 years too old for you, and a man besides. You should be kissing girls your own age.” Jan had to force himself to utter that last sentence from between clenched teeth.

Goku folded his arms across his chest. “You big jealous dummy, I don’t wanna kiss girls my own age… I wanna kiss _you_. I’m sure I’ll get better with practice.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake…” Jan decided retreat was his wisest course. “I’m going to wash up. Wake the twins before they sleep through breakfast.”

Pru sat bolt upright and aimed an exasperated eye-roll at Jan. “Like anyone could sleep through your lover’s quarrel,” she said. “C’mon, Ned, there’s breakfast coming.”

Jan escaped the compartment before his mortification resulted in spontaneous combustion.

~ * ~ * ~

Pru poked Goku for the sixth time since they’d left the train. “Cheer up, monkey!” she said, pairing his childhood nickname with her brightest smile. “Soon we’ll be seeing the sea for the first time ever, just like we talked about doing when we were little. Aren’t you excited?”

Goku shrugged one shoulder and idly stirred his tea, which had gone cold. They were waiting at a café across from the station for Jan to return with a map and directions to Robert Smith’s shipyard. Just before the train had arrived at the station, Ned had suggested Jan reveal himself as a magister and pretend to have taken Ned, Pru, and Goku into custody.

“That way you can check in with the Shanghai office and see if your chief has left you any messages,” Ned said. “Not to mention you can use their resources to find out where our aunt and uncle live.”

Jan had ultimately rejected the idea. “My chief appears not to trust the Chinese Magistrate, so I doubt he’d try to contact me through them,” he said. “No, I think it best I remain a civilian and find other channels through which to get you to your relatives. Pru, you said this Robert Smith is a shipbuilder, correct?”

“Yeah, and I think he’s pretty well-known,” Pru said, looking to Ned for confirmation. “We’ll have better luck finding his shipyard, I bet.”

“But what if there are longcoats out lookin’ for us?” Goku asked. “No offense, Pru, but your dye job’s startin’ to flake off, ‘n Ned’s still as blond as ever.”

Pru gingerly touched one braid. “You’re right,” she grimaced, rubbing the dried polish flakes off on her pants. “I should probably just pin my braids up and cover ‘em with my cap.”

“And I can wear the watch cap Jan gave me,” Ned said.

Once they had arrived at South Shanghai Station, Jan had settled them at the café with tea and cakes and told Ned --

“If I’m not back in a half-hour, head for the harbor. It’s too dangerous for you to stay in one place for long. I’ll catch up with you if I am able.”

He’d left without saying goodbye, or even looking at Goku. The memory stung worse than Jan’s slapping his hand away on the train.

Ned pushed the half-empty food tray toward Goku. “You should finish these,” he said. “It could be awhile before we get fresh pastries again.”

Goku poked disconsolately at a sesame-encrusted bean cake. “I’m not hungry.”

Pru jumped to her feet and snarled at Goku. “I’ve had it with your pouting! Just because your boyfriend didn’t kiss you goodbye…”

Goku almost welcomed the surge of anger his sister’s scolding provoked. He shoved his stool back and shouted --

“You shut up about him! This is all your fault -- if you hadn’ta opened your big mouth on the train… 'n now Jan’s so embarrassed he can’t even look at me!”

“Oh, boo-hoo! In case you hadn’t noticed, we got bigger problems than your stupid hopeless crush! You need to get over it and focus on what’s really important!”

Ned slammed both hands on the table so hard a few of the pastries bounced off the tray. “Be quiet, both of you!” he hissed. “People are staring!”

Goku saw several customers and the shopkeeper looking their way with varying degrees of shock and disapproval. He quickly sat down, his face burning with shame at having upset Ned so much.

“Sorry, Ned… sorry, sis,” he whispered, taking one of the dumplings and stuffing it into his mouth in an effort to ward off the threat of tears.

“Me too, little brother,” Pru said, her own cheeks ablaze.

Ned put his hand on Goku’s arm. “I know you really like Jan,” Ned said, “and that his rejection must be painful for you. But as Pru said, far more crudely --”

“Hey!”

“-- maybe it’s best not to form an attachment to someone who, after today, we will never see again.”

Goku imagined a world in which Jan didn’t exist for him. It was like someone had dropped a boulder on his chest and told him to keep breathing. “I can’t help it,” he said, tracing patterns in the loose seeds on the bottom of the tray. “Even though I know I might not see him again, it doesn’t change my feelings.”

Pru slid her arm around his waist in a half-hug. “Look, here he comes now,” she said, pointing to the café’s front window

Goku watched Jan cross the street, the stiff breeze ruffling his collar and fluttering the stray strands of hair around his face. He was wearing wire-rimmed spectacles and a focused expression that made Goku’s stomach do little flips. Only two days ago, all that intensity had been focused on him, when Jan had pulled him onto his lap and kissed him breathless. Goku’s groin stirred at the memory of how Jan’s mouth had tasted of oolong and anise, and how his elegant hands had slowly traced the line of Goku’s spine from neck to base before cupping his rear and squeezing --

Shit, I got to calm down, he thought, squirming uncomfortably on his stool and focusing on the specks of mildew on the baseboard. Jan ducked into the café and beckoned to them.

“Hurry, the taxi is waiting,” he said, glancing at Goku. “Don’t forget the pastries.”

Goku quickly shoved the remaining dumplings and biscuits into his pockets and hustled out the door. He knew Pru would tease him later about the dopey grin he had on his face, but he couldn’t care less. _At least he’s talking to me again._

~ * ~ * ~

Robert Smith’s reputation was not exaggerated -- his shipyard took up at least 10 quays and 15 blocks of Shanghai’s northeastern harborside. Surely such a rich, powerful businessman would be able to help spirit his niece and nephews over the Pacific to safety, Jan thought.

Unfortunately, when they were finally able to convince the shipbuilder’s secretary to see them, Mister Smith proved most unhelpful.

“I am truly sorry,” he said, “but if the Magistrate is involved in this matter, there is nothing I can do for you. You must understand, in my position as a respected businessman, I cannot take any action that might endanger my reputation.”

Jan noted that the shipbuilder had not once looked either Ned or Pru in the eye since they had arrival. He found such cowardice infuriating.

“I see. Perhaps, then, we should take our case directly to your wife,” Jan said, “since it was she that the children’s mother told them to seek out.”

The veiled threat hit its mark. Robert Smith’s lips tightened, and he said coldly --

“That will not be necessary. My own hands may be tied, but I can direct you to a contact that may be of use to you.” He gestured to his secretary. “Huang, please give my honored nephew’s guardian instructions for sending a message to the Red Devil.”

“At once, sir.” The secretary bowed to Jan. “This way, please.”

The others turned to follow Huang, but Ned paused and bowed deeply to Mister Smith.

“Thank you, honored uncle, for your assistance,” he said. “Please send greetings to my honored aunt on behalf of her beloved sister and her children.”

Robert Smith turned beetroot. “I thank you,” he mumbled, staring at his desktop.

In that moment, Jan didn’t give a damn how many Magistrate edicts had been violated by Ned’s revival -- he only knew that the solemn youth was one of the most honorable men he’d ever had the privilege of meeting. He clasped Ned’s shoulder.

“Let’s go find out more about this Red Devil,” he said, guiding the youth toward the door.

They found Huang bent over his desk, jotting down a quay number and a series of code words onto two sheets of paper. He handed both to Jan. “Give one of these to the watchman on duty,” he said, “and follow his directions carefully. You’ll find the Red Devil at the location he specifies.”

Pru scowled at the secretary. “What the hell is a Red Devil?” she asked.

“Some kinda pirate, I’m bettin’,” Goku grumbled. “Is this what you slimeballs call bein’ helpful?”

Huang bristled. “Master Robert is taking a terrific risk in giving you this information,” he said. “You should be more grateful.”

“Whatever,” Goku spat. “C’mon, Ned… let’s get the fuck out o’ this snake-pit.”

Jan smiled at Huang as his charges stomped toward the door. “Kids,” he shrugged.

~ * ~ * ~

A few hours later, they had almost reached the destination specified by Huang’s intermediary when a shadowy figure emerged from an adjacent alleyway and called --

“Excuse me, sirs, but could you perhaps deliver a message to the Deputy Chief Magister of Europe’s Section 3?”

Jan moved so swiftly that Ned could barely track him. In the space of two heartbeats, he had the figure pinned against the wall, his forearm pressed firmly across the man’s throat.

“Who is doing the asking?” Jan snarled.

“P- please, sir,” the stranger rasped. “It’s from your father, Meindert von Grier… he awaits you at Quay 58.”

Jan frowned. “Quite the coincidence,” he muttered, releasing the messenger. “You’ve delivered your message -- now begone, before I reconsider my decision to leave you your life.”

The man nearly stumbled over his own feet in his haste to quit the scene, much to Ned’s amusement. He’d known Jan long enough to observe that the longcoat’s bark was far worse than his bite.

“We should hurry,” Pru said in a low tone. “I think I heard some constable-whistles a few blocks away.” They picked up their pace, not quite running to the entrance to Quay 58. The late-afternoon sun cast long shadows over the dock, which appeared deserted at first glance. But Goku squinted into the distance and held up his hand.

“Someone’s there,” he said, “at the end of the quay.”

Jan nodded. “Slowly,” he cautioned, dropping behind the teens and murmuring some sort of incantation that made the hairs on the back of Ned’s neck stand on end. Only the grounding presence of his siblings kept Ned from running in the opposite direction.

As they approached the end of the dock, Jan picked up his pace until he was running toward the figures standing in front of a long, sleek metal craft painted a garish crimson. “Father!” he cried.

A man with a graying braid in plain black tunic and wide-legged trousers stepped forward and held out his arms. “Ah, Johannes, I knew you would find me,” he said, embracing Jan with a relieved smile. Ned hung back, not wanting to interrupt their reunion. It was odd to think of the stern, serious magister they’d been traveling with as someone’s son.

Goku and Pru, meanwhile, had approached the men standing slightly apart from Jan’s father. “Are you the Red Devil?” Pru asked the taller of the two, a tanned, handsome foreigner whose gleaming red hair cascaded over his bare shoulders and chest.

“Sweetheart, I’m anyone you want me to be,” he said with a suggestive grin that Ned was disturbed to see actually drew a blush from his usually unflappable twin.

His dark-haired Chinese companion bowed to Ned. “Please excuse my captain’s lack of propriety,” he said flawless English, marked with the patrician accent of Hong Kong. “He is Sha Gojyo, and I am Cho Hakkai, first mate of the Red Devil, this fine ship you see before you. We received a message from someone requesting passage to America; am I correct in assuming you will be our passengers?”

Ned nodded. “I presume shipmaster Smith has already settled the fee for our passage,” he said.

“He has,” Captain Sha said, “though we may be requirin’ a bit extra if our departure is complicated by longcoats. Your uncle said you were in need of quick transport, but he left out the minor detail of you all bein’ wanted by the Magistrate.”

“Figures,” Pru snorted. She scrutinized the ship doubtfully. “You sure we’ll all be able to fit in that skinny tub?”

“Now girlie, don’t be insultin’ my pretty Devil,” the captain chided. “She’s the finest, fastest submergible steamship on the Seven Seas… and since I’m at her helm, that would make me the best captain in the world.”

“That must be why we’ve heard so much about you,” Pru retorted. “Oh, hang on…”

Goku grinned at Ned. “Looks like Pru found someone new to argue with,” he said in an undertone.

Ned clenched his jaw; the thought did not amuse him nearly so much as it did his brother. “We should be on our way,” he said, gesturing toward Jan and the chief. “You should say your farewells.”

Goku swallowed and clenched his fists. “Maybe it’s better if we just go,” he said.

Ned shook his head. “You’ll regret it if you don’t at least say goodbye,” he insisted, taking Goku’s elbow. “I’ll come with you… I want to thank him for his help.”

Jan and his father met them halfway. “This is my father, Chief Magister Meindert von Grier,” he said. “Father, this barefoot brat is Goku, and his more appropriately attired brother is Ned.”

“What is your deal with everyone havin’ to wear shoes?” Goku grumbled. “I like bein’ able to feel the ground when I walk.”

Jan curled his lip. “Do you have any idea how filthy the ground where you’re walking is?”

“Now now, you two,” Meindert clucked, turning to Ned and patting his cheek. “So you’re the clockwork boy everyone’s so worked up about. I must say, you don’t look in the least bit mechanical… or undead, for that matter.”

“Only three of my limbs are machines, sir,” Ned said, inclining his head. “As for undead, I fail to understand your meaning.”

“I could detect no signs of necromancy, Father. But as you know, it’s not my area of expertise,” Jan said, a bit stiffly.

Meindert smiled fondly at his son. “Give us a moment,” he said, placing his hands on either side of Ned’s head and closing his eyes. Ned felt a pulse of cold fire run through his veins, and clenched his teeth against the urge to cry out. He heard Goku’s plaintive cry --

“What’s he doin’ to Ned? He better not be hurting him!”

“Hush, Goku,” Jan replied. “This spell can be tricky.”

“Good, good,” Meindert breathed. “I do apologize for the discomfort, but it’s necessary… ah, I see. Rather genius work, if I do say so…” He was silent for a few moments more, then released Ned and exhaled shakily. Jan was instantly at his side, offering his arm, which Meindert took with a weak smile.

“The good news is the lad shows no sign of having been revived via necromancy,” Meindert told them. “But his mechanical limbs were definitely grafted within a magically created biological structure, which breaks one of the most sacred laws governing the use of magic: the one prohibiting the practice of mechanomancy.”

Ned shivered, and Goku threw his arms protectively around him. “I don’t see what the big deal is,” he said, his voice rising. “Ned didn’t ask that asshole Li Tou Teng to give him new legs and an arm… but he did. And now Ned is perfectly fine… he’s not a monster, and he sure isn’t any automaton.” He held Ned tightly and shouted --

“Why can’t you longcoats just leave us be? Haven’t we already lost enough?”

Meindert sighed. “If it had been solely up to me, I would have apprehended the sorcerer, not the subject of his experiments,” he said. “I was on my way to do just that when I was waylaid by one Chief Magister Nii Ken’yuu, an old friend from my early days with the Magistrate. He seemed to take exception to my wanting to intervene in your case, despite the fact that my orders came from the very top of the worldwide Magistrate leadership. He and I exchanged some rather harsh words, and I managed to escape before his agents could take me into custody. It’s been a merry chase ever since.”

Jan smiled wryly. “I’m sure you’ve been giving him fits,” he said.

“Oh, I can assure you… he most certainly has. And now it is my turn to reciprocate.”

The quay party whirled around to face the source of that silky, self-satisfied pronouncement. The slender, black-eyed man was wearing a magister’s uniform, but its colors were the opposite of those worn by the officers Ned had seen on the train: silver with dark-blue trim. His chin was dark with stubble, and his smile was every bit as creepy as Uncle Li’s.

Meindert stepped forward and uttered an ululating command, which caused the air around him to shimmer and coalesce into a solid, translucent barrier. “Jan, get the children on that ship and leave at once,” he shouted as Nii summoned a cascade of fiery projectiles and hurled them at Meindert’s shield. Ned could see dozens of longcoats racing down the dock, mere seconds away from overwhelming them.

“No, Father!” Jan’s voice was frantic. “You can’t fight all of them alone… let me help you!”

“That is an order, Deputy!” Meindert roared as the barrier he’d raised began smoking and dissolving. “Nothing matters more than getting that boy to safety!”

“Dammit!” Jan swore. He turned and yelled at Goku and Ned --

“You heard the Chief Magister -- move!”

Ned had never been so grateful for his mechanical legs. He crossed the distance to the vessel in three seconds and streaked up the gangplank. He ran over to Pru, who was staring white-faced at the dock.

“Goku!” she screamed.

Ned turned to see Jan collapsed on the deck, and Goku bending over him. His blood ran colder than it had when Meindert had touched him as he watched a group of longcoats surround the two and aim their shockguns. He immediately started for the gangplank, but Hakkai held Ned back.

“It’s too late!” he shouted over the pneumatic whoosh of the steam engines igniting. “We have to launch now, before we’re boarded!”

Captain Sha had pulled the gangplank aboard the ship, despite Pru hanging onto his back in a vain attempt to stop him. “No, no,” she cried, “we can’t leave them!”

“Got no choice,” the captain said, plucking Pru off and setting her roughly on deck. “Hakkai, get the kids below. We’re gonna have to submerge to keep those shockguns from fryin’ us.”

Ned wriggled free of Hakkai’s grasp. “Wait, look!” He pointed to the dock, where Goku had grabbed one longcoat, whirled him around and threw him at his fellows, taking at least a dozen down in one shot. He then scooped Jan into his arms and sprinted full-speed toward the ship.

“Put the gangplank back, you galoot!” Pru screamed at the captain.

“I can’t, you dimwit!” he shouted back. “We’re pullin’ out!”

Ned cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled as loud as he could --

“You got to jump, Goku! Jump!”

Goku let loose an ear-splitting whoop, pulled Jan tightly against him, and launched himself into the air in a soaring, spectacular leap that carried him over the gap and onto the ship’s deck. He and Jan landed in a sprawling heap at the feet of Captain Sha, who guffawed --

“So, you must be Goku. And who’s your fair damsel? Never mind, plenty of time for introductions later… right now you folks need to get below, or you’ll end up in the drink. Hakkai, if you would?”


	4. Chapter 4

They were finishing up a tasty dinner of fish stew and crusty bread when Hakkai leaned into the tiny mess room. “We’ve reached a safe distance and appear to have no pursuers,” he said, “so Captain Sha has brought us back to the surface. You are welcome to come above and take a look around, if you’d like.”

Goku jumped up. “Are you kidding? We been wantin’ to see the ocean our whole lives,” he enthused, gathering up his empty bowl and cup. “Where should we put these, Mister Cho?”

“Please, call me Hakkai,” the first mate said. Goku liked how this time his smile actually warmed his eyes. “You can leave the dishes… I will take care of them later. For now, feel free to relax and enjoy yourselves. The sun is setting now, and the light is quite striking.”

Ned and Pru were out the door in a shot, but Goku hesitated. Jan was still slumped over his stew-bowl, poking at it with a piece of crust. He’d barely eaten and hadn’t said more than three words since they’d left Shanghai. Goku knew exactly how he felt.

“Jan,” he said softly. “I’m sorry about your dad.”

Jan tossed the crust across the table and glared at Goku. “You speak of him as if he’s dead,” he said. “You don’t know that. You don’t know _him_. He is intelligent and resourceful and one of the world’s most powerful sorcerers, more than a match for that rogue magister and his ragtag crew.”

But as Jan spoke, he clenched his fists atop the table so tightly his knuckles whitened. Goku reached over and covered one trembling fist with his hand.

“You’re right.” Even though it was probably a lie, it felt good for Goku to say it. “He probably gave ‘em all a good thrashing and got away by now, laughing all the while.”

Jan almost smiled at that. “That would be just like him,” he said, relaxing his hand beneath Goku’s and exhaling slowly. Goku wanted badly to kiss him, but it probably wasn’t the right time. Instead he squeezed Jan’s hand and said --

“Let’s take a look upstairs.”

Jan had twisted his ankle when he’d tripped over a mooring line on the quay, so Goku scrambled up the steep metal staircase first and lent Jan a hand as he limped carefully up each step. When Jan emerged and Goku had a chance to look around him, he was struck speechless.

To the east, the world was one sweeping, rolling expanse of gray-green swells tipped with foam. In the west, the sun was a blazing disk of deepest orange hung just above the sea line, and the surrounding sky was streaked with more shades of orange, pink, and purple than Goku had ever suspected existed in the world. The light of the setting sun transformed the sea beneath it into liquid fire that spread outward in ripples of sparkling gold too bright for the eye to gaze upon for long. Ned and Pru were standing hand in hand at the ship’s west-facing rail, the sun casting them in silhouette against the splendid sky.

It was even more awesome than Dad had described, Goku thought. He wished with all his heart Dad and Mum were there to enjoy it with them. But then, maybe they could see it, from wherever their spirits had traveled to. He’d like to think so.

Jan stood silently at Goku’s side, and when Goku snuck a glance, he felt his heart thump painfully in his chest. Jan was gazing at the scene with a wide-eyed, wondrous awe at complete odds with his usual closed, cynical expression. Jan hadn’t bothered to fix his hair after it had come loose from its ribbon back at the docks, and the spray-soaked breeze blowing through the loose strands had turned it all soft and wavy.

If Goku had thought Jan beautiful before, he now believed him to be the most stunning creature on Earth. He took Jan’s hand in his and said --

“It’s fantastic, isn’t it?”

Jan’s voice was even deeper than usual. “I never knew anything could be so magnificent,” he said.

Goku’s eyes widened. “So you’ve never seen the sea before today? But I thought you were from Europe…”

“I grew up in Germany and I now live in Brussels.” Jan brushed a lock of hair out of his eyes. “The sea is not that far away, but I was always too busy to go and never really saw the point.” He paused and met Goku’s eyes, adding --

“I likely would have gone my whole life without seeing this, but for you.” He threaded his fingers through Goku’s and squeezed tightly. “Thank you,” he whispered, tipping Goku’s chin up with one crooked finger.

Goku put every ounce of happiness he was feeling into his smile. “I’m glad we got to see it for the first time together,” he said. He stood on tiptoe to meet Jan halfway, and they kissed as the sunset faded to twilight.

~ * ~ * ~

Jan scowled at his plain muslin sleep-shirt and threw it back in the valise for what had to be the dozenth time. He’d already removed his boots and jacket, but had gone only as far as to strip off his shirt before becoming paralyzed by the decision of what he should wear to sleep in. And all because he was sharing a room with Goku, who clearly couldn’t care less if he slept in pajamas or petticoats. It was beyond absurd.

Of course, the mutinous back corner of his brain was cackling that the reason he was in such a dither was that he and Goku would likely end up sharing a bed as well as a room. He was having a progressively more difficult time silencing those thoughts.

It was all rather surprising, given Jan’s history. Even when he’d been a teenager, and his classmates had been working as hard at docking as studying, Jan had never seen the appeal of sex. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have carnal urges, but since he’d found most girls his age excruciatingly vapid, and most boys to be towering dunderheads, he’d preferred to take care of those desires himself so as to have more energy for passing the series of exams required for acceptance into the magister training program.

The years after that had been spent working hard to support Meindert while advancing his own position, and had left Jan little time for non-Magistrate-related socializing. The few women in their office who had been bold enough to make advances on him had turned heel and run after a few cuts from his acid tongue, and the only man he’d ever been remotely attracted to -- a dashing junior magister named Alfons who, now that Jan thought about it, was not unlike their scoundrel of a ship’s captain -- had teased and touched and flirted with Jan to the point where Jan had decided that, should Alfons proposition him outright, he would accept and see what all this fuss was about sex. Of course, Alfons had been transferred to London two weeks later, and Jan had considered it a sign that he was simply not meant to be romantically attached to anyone.

Luckily, Goku had not received that message, he thought with a wry smile.

He was unbuttoning his trousers when the door swung open and their redheaded demon-captain poked his head in. Jan turned his back to the door, shouting --

“Do you mind knocking, sir?”

Jan could almost feel the bastard grinning at him. “Not at all, princess,” he said, rapping the doorframe twice. “Oh, no need to be bashful… I’ve seen it all, believe me.”

Jan hastily rebuttoned and turned to face the man. “What the hell do you want?” he snapped, refusing to waste good manners on this rogue, captain or no.

Sha’s grin grew wider and his catlike ruby eyes lingered on Jan’s face for far longer than was polite. “Just wanted to make sure you and that handsome boy of yours were settled before I called it a night. Hakkai’s got first shift at the helm, so you know where to find him if you need anything.” He winked suggestively. “Although from what I saw on deck, I’d say your prince is all you’ll be needin’ tonight.”

Jan could no longer count how many times he’d cursed the ease with which he tended to blush since embarking on this misbegotten adventure. “We are fine, thank you,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “Good night, Captain.”

“And a very good night to you, princess,” the captain purred.

“My name is _Jan_!” he yelled as the captain shut the door, cutting off the sound of his obnoxious laughter. He sat down on the edge of the bunk and examined the sleepshirt lying atop his open valise. It looked even sillier than it had before Sha had arrived with his base insinuations. Cursing, he stood and began to undo his trousers again, only to be interrupted by a soft knock and the click of the latch as Goku entered the tiny cabin.

“Hey, the captain says he’s got some brandy if you’d like a nightcap…”

Goku trailed off as he caught sight of Jan in his undershirt with trousers half-undone, and Jan felt his body stir in response to the youth’s appreciative gaze. He still found his attraction to Goku slightly disconcerting, given his youth and lack of worldly experience. But Goku was also energetic, intuitive, loyal, and not altogether unintelligent… not to mention extremely attractive, especially when his honey-golden eyes took on that lustful gleam. Jan also noticed that Goku’s hair was no longer braided, but hung loose and shining over his shoulders, falling nearly to his waist. Clearly either Goku or one of his siblings had given it a thorough brushing before bedtime.

Jan's fingers itched to bury themselves in that silken curtain. If he’d had even the smallest desire to accept the proffered nightcap, it was long gone. “I think I’ll pass,” Jan said, slowly releasing each of the remaining trouser-buttons without taking his eyes from Goku’s face. He watched the muscles in Goku’s throat work as he swallowed, then took a tentative step toward Jan and reached out one slightly shaking hand.

“Let me help you with those,” he said hoarsely, fingers brushing the open front of Jan’s trousers. Jan hissed as they stroked his hardening cock. Goku quickly drew back with an anxious, uncertain expression that made him look younger than his 16 years and, gods help him, even more desirable. Jan supposed that made him a pervert of the lowest sort, but he was finding it almost impossible to care.

“Did I hurt you?” Goku asked.

Jan shook his head, took Goku’s hand and placed it back on his growing bulge. “Quite the opposite,” he said, and seized that delicious mouth in a series of soft, searching kisses. He flashed back to Goku’s comment on the train, and whispered between kisses --

“You are quite correct. I believe rigorous practice is called for in this area.”

“You said it,” Goku murmured, his smooth lips gliding along Jan’s jawline before returning his attentions to Jan’s mouth. Jan nudged Goku’s mouth fully open and used his tongue to plunder its warm, wet depths, and Goku’s throat-deep groan sent vibrations straight to Jan’s groin.

“Oh gods,” Goku panted, breaking the kiss and rutting shamelessly against Jan’s thigh. Jan’s fingers tangled in Goku’s shirt-buttons, desperate to touch Goku’s bare skin, to feel it pressed against his own naked flesh… except that would require him to remove his own clothes as well, which at that precise moment seemed an insurmountable task. Thankfully, Goku had already taken the matter in hand, so to speak, by yanking down his trousers and slipping his hand inside his underclothes. The sublime shock of that first touch, of Goku’s warm, rough palm on his aching hardness, nearly finished Jan off right then. He moaned and warned --

“Goku wait… I’m too close.” He had finally managed to unfasten the rest of Goku’s shirt-buttons, so he extracted Goku’s hand from his breeches and worked the fabric down and off his arms, running his hands up and over the beautiful bronzed skin revealed beneath. It seemed to glow softly in the dim light of the cabin’s single gas lamp. So fucking beautiful, Jan thought as he stroked Goku’s chest and sucked his nipples until they were fully erect and so sensitive that the slightest touch made Goku mewl and writhe. Goku fumbled with his pants, and Jan helped him pull them off, revealing more gloriously golden skin underneath. Goku took Jan's hand and said --

“Come to bed with me, Jan. Let me pleasure you…”

“Let’s pleasure each other,” Jan corrected. He stripped off his underthings and slid into the lower bunk next to Goku. The younger man was biting his lip again, which Jan now knew was his way of showing nerves. Ignoring his body’s vigorous protestations, he put his arms around Goku and said gently --

“We don’t need to take this any further. If you want to stop, tell me… don’t be afraid.”

Goku shook his head violently. “No! I mean, hell yeah I want to,” he said. “But it’s just that… well, I’ve never done anything like this before. But Dad told me some stuff, and Ned too, and some of the boys in town… and…” He was blushing now, and Jan had to fight the urge to brush his lips across those rosy cheeks. Finally the remaining words exploded from Goku in a rush --

“Well, if you wanna bugger me, that’s okay.”

Despite his lack of practical experience, Jan was well-read enough to know precisely what Goku was offering, and felt completely over-matched by the idea. Thankfully, he had just enough presence of mind to keep from blurting out his initial reaction, which was something along the lines of _Good lord, no_. Instead he stroked Goku’s hair and said --

“I suspect neither of us is quite ready for that yet.” He could feel Goku’s relief in the relaxing of his back muscles. “I would, however, like to touch you,” Jan said, brushing one hand over Goku’s trim stomach.

“I would definitely, absolutely like that, too,” was Goku’s ardent reply. He pressed closer and kissed Jan again, running his hand over Jan’s nipples and pinching them into peaks while Jan hummed his encouragement into Goku’s mouth. Their hands drifted to each other’s cocks, and soon they were pulling and stroking and thrusting, their breathing synchronized in harsh, gasping grunts and ecstatic cries. Jan was on the precipice when Goku suddenly thrust his erection against Jan’s and took hold of both. That contact was all it took for Goku to climax, shouting Jan’s name over and over as his seed coated their clasped fingers. A few more tugs and Jan’s vision went white, and he shuddered with joy and relief as his spend mingled with Goku’s.

They lay face to face for several minutes afterward, boneless and sated and too lazy to care that various body parts were getting uncomfortably sticky. Jan had no doubt that he was smiling like a simpleton, if Goku’s goofy grin was anything to judge by.

“That was the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Goku finally said. “Well, okay… maybe the _second-_ best thing.”

“I would take offense,” Jan said, “except I believe I know what your first-best thing is.” He caressed Goku’s cheek with his clean hand. “When your adoptive father found you in the mine,” he added.

Goku nodded solemnly. “I told you I don’t remember anything before that day,” he said. “I only remember the dark, and being cold and hungry, and lonely… so, so lonely that I thought I might die from it.” His eyes were slightly unfocused, as if he was peering backward through time at the scene. “I have no idea how long I was down there… but one day there was this tiny bit of light far above me, and this voice calling me, telling me not to give up, that someone was coming for me. And then someone tossed a rope ladder into the pit, and my dad -- you know, Pru and Ned’s dad, Son Wen Kang -- came climbing down with a lantern strapped to his back, and he asked me if I could climb, and I said I thought I could… and so I did, and here I am.”

Goku ended the story with one of his soul-warming smiles. Jan sent a silent prayer of thanks to the man who had unearthed this rare, precious being, and to the unwitting magisters who had chased him into Jan’s life.

“Here you are,” he said, running his thumb along Goku’s lips. “Here I am. And here I believe I’ll stay.”

Goku kissed his thumb. “But what about your dad… ‘n your Magistrate job?” he asked. “There’s no Magistrate in America, right? I mean, I'm glad for Ned's sake, but…”

Jan responded with one of his rare smiles. “I'm thinking it might be just the place to create a new sort of Magistrate,” he said.

~ * end * ~


End file.
